


this life is overwhelming and i'm ready for the next one

by snakebitehearts



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Self-Harm, graphic depictions of self-harm, this is not a fun time, unintentional suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 07:06:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16676917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakebitehearts/pseuds/snakebitehearts
Summary: It's a mistake when it happens.It doesn't mean he's any less relieved.





	this life is overwhelming and i'm ready for the next one

**Author's Note:**

> CONTENT WARNING: this contains pretty graphic details about self-harm which leads to an unplanned suicide attempt. it's potentially very triggering. you have been warned, please turn away if this is something that you don't think you can handle.  
> title from ghost by badflower

The razor blade clatters to the bathroom floor. His blood starts to drip, a stark contrast on the white tile. A tear lands in the middle of the small puddle. Mat can’t stop staring at his watered-down blood.

It’s… it’s a lot more than usual.

He glances at the cuts on his wrists, higher than normal to avoid ones that were already scabbing over.

They’re right on the vein. Blood is pouring out of them steadily.

Mat starts laughing. He hadn’t planned for it to be today, but like fuck he’s going to regret it now.  
It does mean that he has a call to make, though.

He stands up shakily. He’s already dizzy, which probably isn’t a good sign. Or is, considering what he’s going for. 

He makes his way out to the bedroom, trying to find his phone. He knows he’s staining the carpet with his blood. 

Whatever. That’s someone else’s problem now. 

He’s got a couple missed messages from teammates. The last one was Tito, asking if he was alright from five minutes ago. Not yet, he thinks. Soon.

He calls him. 

“Barzy? Are you doing okay, man?” Tito sounds worried. Mat vaguely thinks he can hear traffic in the background.

“I have never been better, Beau. Never. Been. Better,” He tries to enunciate each word, but it comes out more slurred than anything.

“You don’t sound alright. Are you drunk? Look, I’m almost to your place. Can we talk?” Tito asks, and Mat’s stomach drops out.

“I don’t think we’ll have time to talk,” Mat answers honestly, sliding slowly to the ground. He made it to the living room before his legs started giving out.

“Barzy, buddy, what the fuck does that mean? Did you take something?”

Mat snickers.

“Took something to both my wrists,” He mumbles. He tries to make this unintelligible, but somehow it’s delivered crystal clear.

“Mat, say that again,” Tito’s using his best ‘serious voice’ but Mat can hear fear behind it.

“I’d rather not,” Mat feels like a child arguing like this, but he doesn’t need Tito to hurry. He wants to finish the job, god fucking damn it.

He hears Tito start swearing frantically. Oops, did he say that out loud?

“Tito, don’t worry about me. I’m gonna be happy, promise,” Mat’s eyelids feel droopy.

“I’ll be there in two minutes. Just don’t fucking move Mat, stay with me.”

“I’m tired,” Mat announces as the phone falls out of his hand. 

He hears Tito say his name again and again, before a loud ‘fuck’ and the line goes dead. Mat doesn’t fall asleep, sadly, only dazes for a bit. 

When he’s focusing again, Tito is holding him.

“Mat, holy shit,” Mat thinks he can see tears running down Tito’s cheeks. He doesn’t like when Tito’s sad. 

“Hey, don’t cry,” Mat says. He tries to wipe off the tears, but just leaves a smear of blood in their place.

”Oh, I’m sorry,” Mat’s hand falls to his side. He’s too weak to keep it up.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Hey, look at me. Just look at me, Mat.”

Mat’s always easy for him, so he does. He tries to smile a little bit, but his eyes keep closing. 

“I love you,” Mat sniffles. Tito’s hold tightens around his shoulders. 

“I love you too, Mat,” He answers.

“No you don’t. Not the same way I do,” Mat replies.

Tito looks heartbroken, but there’s no time to respond before the door slams open.

“Where is he? Where is… holy fucking shit,” Mat can’t tell who that is. He thinks it might be Marty. 

“Why’s Marty here?” Mat asks, confused. He doesn’t remember when he put his head in Tito’s lap.

“I’m here to get you out of your fucking building, kid. I’m not letting you die,” Marty says. Mat hates it. 

“No!” He uses the last strength he has to push himself away from Tito. “I want to fucking die! Just go away!”

Marty’s able to get him pretty easily. Mat thrashes in his grip, waving his arms around, hoping it’ll make him lose the blood faster.

“Let me die! Let me die, let me die, let me die!” He lands a weak punch on Marty, not at all hard but uncomfortable enough that Mat can wiggle free.

The last thing he sees is Tito, eyes full of tears, before he passes out.

**Author's Note:**

> mat’s not dead, by the way.   
> i wrote this last night to cope with my thoughts. sorry, mat.  
> this might get another part/sequel the next time im feeling like shit.


End file.
